A Rose By Any Other Name
by Web of Obsidian
Summary: They sat in front of the large painting, the four of them, on a small bench with cups of tea on saucers in their hands. How else would they wrap up a large and emotionally draining crisis? Tea, always tea. Three Time Lords, and a human, and the very last relic of Gallifrey.


They sat in front of the large painting, the four of them, on a small bench with cups of tea on saucers in their hands. How else would they wrap up a large and emotionally draining crisis? Tea, always tea. Three Time Lords, and a human, and the very last relic of Gallifrey.

"I don't suppose we'll ever know if we actually succeeded," the oldest in appearance – and ironically enough, the youngest of the three incarnations – said gruffly. "But at worst, we failed doing the right thing, as opposed to succeeding in doing the wrong."

The human, Clara, set her cup of tea down with a _clink _on the porcelain plate. "Life and soul, you are!" she joked.

Three boxes were lined up on one wall, three blue boxes that could theoretically be a part of the museum. They were old police boxes, a very common sight in the 1960s. They were slightly varying in color and size, one was a more vibrant blue and slightly larger, one was slimmer and a darker color, and the third was perhaps the one most closely resembling the second, save for the small fact that it was scratched and battered and covered in dust and scorch marks.

The other two incarnations of the Doctor stood in front of the painting, looking at the smoggy orange skies with a strange mixture of hope and dulled resignation.

"But what did you _mean_?" the Doctor demanded all of a sudden, staring at his past counterpart, the words coming out as though they had been weighing on his mind for quite some time. "You said- you said she- _she _showed you what you needed to see, and- and you said-"

"Bad Wolf," the eleventh finished. A far cry from his past self's manic energy and practically tripping over himself in his excitement to get his words out, the younger – yet really, he was the most painfully old out of all of them – was quiet and subdued. They both looked at the Doctor who had fought in that awful, _awful _war. "You said Bad Wolf, and since I really don't remember any of this from your points of view, what exactly did you mean when you said- _that_."

The calm façade cracked on the last few words, and Clara hesitantly shuffled forwards to place a hand over his.

The youngest Doctor shrugged. "The Moment, it has a conscience," he told them, sounding entirely unconcerned about it. True, they did remember that bit, sort of, but they failed to see what it had to do with anything else. "It's alive, it's sentient. That's why they never used it, because who would dare to wield such a powerful weapon when it could stand and hold judgment on you?"

They smiled in a self-deprecating manner, but no one spoke until he continued.

"The interface showed up before I came to find you, it said... or _she _said that she had chosen that face for me specifically, from my- _our _future. Called herself Rose-something-or-other, then stopped. Bad Wolf, she said, and her eyes were golden."

The eleventh eyed the tenth warily, the younger man clutching the small handle of the teacup so tightly he was starting to worry it might shatter. "Blonde hair," he murmured. "That's what she looked like? Blonde hair, eyes kind of a... hazel. They were hazel, weren't they?"

"Hazel," the eleventh agreed. "Smelled like mint."

"Peppermint," the tenth agreed, and he sat down next to the youngest of the three, looking up at the ceiling. "Oh, she... _Brilliant_, that girl."

"Saved us more times than we can count," the eleventh continued. "First time we met, eh? And there were Nestenes, I think."

"Oh, I remember the Nestenes!" The tenth smiled widely and nudged the younger. "You've got that to look forward to, then! Great adventure, that one, and coming up soon, I think?"

"Quite soon, mmm."

The Doctor blinked and looked between the two a few times. "Was she important?" he finally asked.

The tenth's expression hardened and he glared. "She still is!"

The elder quickly made a shushing noise in a way he hoped was soothing. "Trust us," he told the younger. "From self to self. You make sure you take her with you, all right? You show her the stars. You..." Vague memories of wind, and a bleak, desolate beach on the outskirts of Norway. "You won't regret it. She'll _save _you."

"But if I don't remember this-"

"Doesn't matter," the tenth cut in, but slightly quieter this time, thoughts running much along the same line. "You take her with you."

They bid their farewells, the youngest to regenerate and the tenth shortly to follow. The eleventh found himself alone with Clara; the dear girl, she'd been so quiet he'd almost forgotten she was there. Clara hugged her Doctor, kissed him on the cheek, and retreated for the single blue box left on the wall to let him stay with his painting for a little while longer.

Then came the curator. Or perhaps it was The Curator, he wasn't _quite _sure, but mysteries were always the best kind of story.

"'_Gallifrey Falls No More'_," said the man wearing an old face in quite a firm tone. The eleventh felt nearly giddy with excitement. Dreams were not enough to sustain a man – perhaps, _perhaps_... "And, let me tell you something – or perhaps you should tell me something!" They both chuckled. "Entirely hypothetical, but then again, most things are. I'm just a humble curator, I wouldn't know much, but I happened to overhear you talking... If Gallifrey – if, if, if _if _Gallifrey is still out there... well, it might just serve to reason that other things are out there too! Food for thought, I've found it does wonders."

And then the Doctor remembered a small box, still sitting by itself in a shed in the desert sands of home, and he laughed.

* * *

_It hurt to think about-_

_About-_

_It hurt-_

_Maybe that girl could come with him. She got him to laugh, it had been a while since he had laughed. Felt almost like something was closing back up in his chests, over the scarred remains of his hearts. But- no, no, and it hurt more than he thought it would after everything._

_**Trust us.**_

_What-?_

_**From self to self. You make sure you take her with you.**_

_**She'll save you.**_

"Did I mention that it also travels in time?"


End file.
